Smash!

Prologue

I was in her floor.  I wasn’t on it.  I wasn’t underneath it.  I was IN it.

The varying intricacies of how I came to be in her floor, we’ll touch on later in this telling, so I’ll save it to say that I pissed her off really badly by cheating on her.  Also, it is important to this story to note that she was one of the big gurus at a national technology and chemical company.

And that she has a really bad temper, and a completely insatiable streak of vengeance.

My girlfriend, she just outright killed.  Shrunk her down to near nothing and crushed her to a ground-out-of existence paste under the toe of her stiletto.

Me, she buried in her floor.

Imagine the contractor’s puzzlement when he had been asked to cut 14 x 20 rectangles in all of the floors in all of the rooms in the house, and at strategic locations in all of the rooms.  Fit them with removable plates, seamless so they wouldn’t show in the carpet when they were in place.

It must have been bewildering, but my lady is rich and powerful and so the contractor did as asked without question.

If with a bit of head-scratching.

I didn’t need to ask why she was doing it.

I KNEW why.

But still, imagine my shock when she brought home this set of firm foam blocks, with an indentation machined out of them just my shape and size.

Yeah, you would have guessed right, if you’d guessed that she had shrunk me too.  Me, however, she didn’t crush beneath her stiletto.  For me, she had other plans.  I was to begin a new life in the foam blocks.

In her floor.

Her, was my wife.

Mary was her name.

And she was way pissed because I had cheated on her to explore a foot fetish.

And she was going to punish me HARSHLY for it.

PART ONE

Chapter 1

After having caught us with the use of a Private Detective, she had marched right over to our hotel (mine and my girlfriend’s) and almost beat the door down!

“Greg!  I know the two of you are in there! You better open up right now, or I swear to God, I’ll shoot the fucking lock out!”

I knew she would, too.  She had that kind of a temper.  And the kind of gun she carried – a .44 magnum snub-nosed she always carried in her purse – would empower her to do exactly as she promised.

Grabbing my underwear and telling Jess (that was my extra-marital girlfriend) to hide in the john, I hurriedly went to the door and opened it.  (I was hoping I could cool my wife down enough to be able to leave with her so Jess could get out.  I knew my wife would shoot her if she discovered her here.  Mary had that kind of temper!)

Mary barged right in, nearly bowling me over she threw the door open so hard.

Mary was a big woman – 6-foot 2 with sexy shoulders as wide as an axe handle.

She was the paragon of a woman boss, too.  Strong, sexy legs, high heeled shoes with those panty hose with those black lines that ran up the backs of her legs, a $10,000 immaculately tailored business suit, and an utterly no-nonsense attitude ever on a face framed by straight, silky locks of jet black hair.  If not for her usual sternness, her face would have had a beguiling beauty.  But more often than not, especially when she was around me, her face had the unflinching hardness of an anvil.

Completing the ensemble, were a pair of damn near needle-point stiletto, sleeker-than-polished-onyx black shoes.  Every step she took with them was as if she intended to make her footsteps heard in Hell.  They clacked loudly on tile and hardwood.  They made these deep, staccato thumps on carpets.  And she seemed to pile drive them every step, as if to emphasize with her approach, that people had better get out her way.

“Where the fuck is she?!” she demanded, marching into the room.

Me, she shoved back on the bed, and then – at first what I thought was her .44 – she pointed her gun at me.

“No!” I cried!  “Mary!  For god’s sake!”

With a cruel but knowing smirk, she fired.  But the gun only went off with a “Pfft!” sound and a puff of mist.

At first, I was confused.

A dart?

Plucking the thing out of my arm, I held it up and looked incredulously at her.

“Wha--*”

But that was when my world fell away, darkness collapsing in on me like two ocean waves meeting in the middle.  Darkness took me with a sensation like a thunderous rise of fizzing foam.  The last thing I saw when my world got washed into blackness, was my wife’s evil smirk.

Chapter 2

When I awakened, I was...

I was...

I sat up.   Groaned.

My fucking head THROBBED!  My ass, my back and shoulders hurt, too, like I was lying on a hard, uneven surface.  But most of all, my head throbbed.

I sat up slowly, tried to take in my surroundings.  My vision though, seemed to be betraying me.  A desert of blue... rocks?  A hazy vision of a vast bedroom beyond a... my eyes squinting... was I looking through glass?

Then my heart skipped a beat.  My head snapping around to my right, me still trying to focus my fuzzy vision, I nonetheless saw clearly enough to recognize Jess.  She was lying not too far from me, her body collapsed on the blue desert the same as mine was not moments ago.

Getting up on shaky legs, groaning at the throbbing in my head, and the pain of the rocks turning under my bare feet, I froze.

I found myself looking out at some monstrous bedroom!  But not just any bedroom!

Huge armoire, an accompanying dresser.  Big, four-poster bed with matching overstuffed comforter and pillows with floral designs.  Solid mahogany frame with matching nightstands on either side and a matching footlocker at the foot of the bed.  A pair of $2500 Tiffany lamps stood on the nightstands.  The armoire and dresser boasted a massive mirror with tons of beauty supplies with a Tiffany chair in front.  A big, four-door walk-in closet stood at the west wall, which I knew boasted over a hundred pair of shoes and a couple of dozen $10,000 Armani business suits.  An absolutely massive bathroom was beyond the south wall.  Finally, thick, light blue carpet covered the bedroom’s floor, with a massive area rug occupying most of the floor between the bed and armoire.

It was our bedroom!

Mine and Mary’s bedroom!

I staggered forward.  My hands came upon glass.  I realized in that moment that I was in a fish tank, that the blue “desert” rocks were blue fish tank pebbles, and that I was staring out at mine and my wife’s bedroom from within the fish tank!

What the fuck?  More importantly, how the fuck?!

I put my forehead against the tank’s glass, squinted my eyes shut and tried to make my mind wrap around the utter and absolute ridiculousness, not to mention the enormity of the situation.

Mary was a bigwig at a multinational technologies and chemicals firm.  She had Top Secret “Eyes Only” clearance, and worked on shit that most people only ever dreamed up conspiracies about.

Once Mary was onto what I was doing, she had evidently brought some of her work home, to give me what for with it.

And had she ever.

Looking down at myself, and judging the fish tank I was in to be a 10-gallon tank, I estimated my new height at 6 to 8 inches.  Mary had somehow shrunk me down to a size of an action figure!

Suddenly, Jess groaned behind me.

Pushing away from the glass, the gravel turning and smarting under my bare feet, I tottered slowly over to her.

I took her hand, positioned myself so that she wouldn’t be able to see past me to the bedroom if she sat up, told her to lie still, that everything was all right and that help was coming.

“Jess, you all right?” I asked solicitously, really worried that Mary might have hurt her.

Her bare skin was bruised in a few places, by what looked like giant... finger marks.

It looked like Mary had been pretty rough with her.

“Wha--?” she moaned groggily.  She groaned, brought a hand up to her head.

“Lie still,” I said again, trying to calm her by patting her hand between both of mine.  “It’ll be all right,” I lied.

My gut clenched as I looked down at her.  She was so very fucked.  The only reason Mary hadn’t killed her already, I knew, was so she could gloat over catching me at my affair Jess.  Who knew what tortures lay in store for this sweet-hearted woman.  My mind refused to even imagine them.

It tried, but I did not want it to.

“I rem—“ Jess began again, still moaning and mumbling the words.  “Someone shouting, then the bathroom door bursting open, then a woman with a gun.”

Jess’s eyes snapped open.  They were red-rimmed and bloodshot.  They locked with mine.  Her eyes filled with horror.

“Was that your wife, Greg?”  Then her eyes widened.  Then suddenly, she was looking this way and that, her eyes frantic, she trying to snatch her hand away, when she too suddenly froze.

She had frozen when her eyes fell upon the blue pebbles that made up the floor of our fish tank prison.  Then putting her hand on my chest to push me back, she started to sit up.  When she did, her eyes went wide, she staring with dawning horror at mine and Mary’s monstrous bedroom beyond our prison’s glass walls.

“Jess, look,” I began hastily.  But before I could finish, Jess had fainted dead away, her head and body falling back on the loose pebbles with a soft crunch.

It wasn’t moments after that, me trying to coax Jess back awake with little pats to her cheek and with soft words, that I heard the all-too-recognizable click.. clocking of the rhythmic footsteps of my now goliath wife coming down the hall.

END PART ONE